


dance with me !

by Iiteru



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Fluffy, I also needed to write for another ship, I needed to write something soft after the last upload, M/M, Seonghwa's a chaotic gay, Seonghwa's almost always whipped for someone in my fics, Seonghwa's more whipped somehow, Set in real life, Slow Dancing, Yeosang's whipped, not really much of a plot, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 21:43:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17516381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iiteru/pseuds/Iiteru
Summary: “I can’t dance.” Seonghwa protests. It’s perhaps the fiftieth time in the last hour that he's been asked the question, response unchanging. Yeosang, from the couch, groans."You're literally an idol. I think you can dance."





	dance with me !

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CosmicallyLyss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicallyLyss/gifts).



> this is actually an old work of mine that I never really did anything with tweaked a little bit. As usual, thanks for reading !! Go check out Cosmicallylyss's Seongsang fic too, she's the reason that I did this asdjfsg go give her some love 
> 
> it's a little bad but you know what, i'm tired okAy

“I can’t dance.” Seonghwa protests. It’s perhaps the fiftieth time in the last hour that he's been asked the question, response unchanging. Yeosang, from the couch, groans.

“You’re such a liar,” He flicks his thumb across the screen of his phone, searching for music, “You’re literally an idol. I think you can dance.”

Seonghwa shrugs and looks down at the floor of the dorm. It was just the two of them left alone for the night. Everyone else had decided to leave and go out for ice cream, but Yeosang claimed he wasn’t feeling well and had opted to stay in with Seonghwa who just plain didn’t feel like leaving. However, it was evident that Yeosang had other plans for the two of them; an alternative motive, if you will. “I can’t _slow dance._ ”

Yeosang doesn’t take this for an answer. Ignoring him, he hits play on his phone, tosses it onto the cushion, and stands. He holds a hand down towards Seonghwa who eyes it like it’s poisoned. 

“C’mon,” Yeosang urges, waving the hand in front of him, “Get up you oaf.”

Seonghwa shakes his head. “I told you, I can’t do it.”

“It’s easy, I’ll show you.”

Seonghwa wants to point out that the last time that Yeosang showed him how to do something he failed miserably, but instead he sighs and takes the hand. Yeosang’s smile lights up the room, and in no time he pulls Seonghwa off of the couch and to his feet.

From Yeosang’s phone, the chorus of some English song, a Thousand Years, twinkles. It serves to be a reminder not only of the fact that this is a slow dancing "lesson" but as evidence to add to the long-standing theory that Yeosang is a closeted hopeless romantic. He stands in front of Seonghwa in the living room, bright socks, messy hair, loose t-shirt and all. It’s one of those increasingly common moments where he realizes how beautiful Kang Yeosang is and hates himself for it.

He directs Seonghwa's hands to his waist as he mumbles directions about how slow dancing works. To say he's listening as Yeosang runs through the steps would be a lie. He's too caught up reveling in the way that Yeosang acts around him, cute smiles and light-hearted teasing. It's a way he never acts when the other members are around. Yeosang always acted more... kept to himself when they were home. But not with Seonghwa... never with him. The music takes over Seonghwa’s ears as he tries his best, hands steady on slim hips. He feels Yeosang's arms loop around his neck and suddenly, in an instant, he realizes the reality of the situation. 

He’s slow dancing with Yeosang in the middle of the living room.

His hands are on Yeosang's hips while the latter's arms are wrapped around his neck, swaying to a cliche American love song he doesn't understand the words to. The true "reality" is that he doesn't mind it. He doesn't mind it at all.

"See," Yeosang's voice says after a moment. "I told you you could do it."

Seonghwa's lips curl up into a smile as he rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "You did."

They stay like that for a while. Seonghwa in a state of chaotic gay panic, Yeosang clung to him, weight shifting between feet on the hardwood flooring. Whatever playlist Yeosang chose flicks through various other cliche love songs. Some Seonghwa recognizes, some he doesn't. The thing that sticks out to him is the fact that they're just that; They're love songs.

They're love songs, and Yeosang's pressed against him, slowing dancing with him in a way only couples do. It feels so... Intimate. Much more than it should for two friends spending a lonely evening together. Yet, Seonghwa loves it. He loves the closeness, the affection in Yeosang's eyes as he smiles up at him. It's a sight, a gorgeous sight, and his heart aches at the realization that it's going to have to come to an end eventually. He smiles back. 

"I knew you'd be good at it," Yeosang admits, head tilting up at him. His eyes are soft, warm pools of amber that seem to glitter as he speaks. Maybe Seonghwa's the true romantic for thinking things like that.

"Really?" He raises a brow. Yeosang hums in response.

"Dancing, singing, taking terrible mirror selfies with your phone upside down," He laughs into his words as Seonghwa gives an offended gasp, but continues, "I wonder if there's anything you can't do."

"There are plenty of things," Seonghwa says, looking down at him. Yeosang's dark hair is ruffled, perfectly imperfect. He resists the urge to comb his fingers through it. 

Another silence sets in. Yeosang opens his mouth to speak, but hesitates. His eyes flicker between Seonghwa's lips and his eyes, contemplative.

"There's another thing I think you might be good at..." He trails, eyes settling on his lips. Seonghwa's heart jumps in his chest.

He thinks he knows what's coming, but that doesn't make it any easier. Something in him wants it to happen just as much as Yeosang does. "And that is?"

When the swaying stops, there's nothing but the hyperactive awareness of the situation. The feeling of Yeosang's hand sliding to his shoulder, the warmth of his body in the proximity. He watches as the younger leans in slowly, eyes searching Seonghwa's for permission. When he doesn't pull back or make any effort to stop him, he moves closer, eyes dropping back to his target.

"This."

And suddenly, Yeosang's lips are on his. They’re smaller in comparison, but so plush and soft that Seonghwa can’t help but savor every moment of the interaction. It’s fleeting, over almost as soon as it happens, and his eyes flutter open. Yeosang’s face is close, close enough if he were to speak the words would brush against Seonghwa's lips. His eyes are half-lidded as he searches his for some type of reaction. Reassurance, validation. 

Seonghwa knows his eyes have a tendency to betray him, and he doesn't trust himself to say the right things. Instead, he does what he’s wanted to do for so, so long and cups his cheek, leaning in, and capturing his lips again. Yeosang exhales softly in surprise and melts into the touch.

The kiss is deeper this time, a reflection of mutual pent-up emotion releasing all at once. It’s perfect, sickly sweet, filled with everything Seonghwa had wanted to say to him for months but never found the courage to. It's perfectly matched, a lovely blend of lips and tongue that isn't too much or too little. The concept of time is lost completely as they kiss, and Seonghwa isn't sure if they've been at it for minutes or hours. He feels Yeosang’s hand grip a fistful of his t-shirt to tug him close and he can’t help but smile into the kiss, breaking it to rest his forehead against his.

“Why’d you stop?” Yeosang replies, breathless. Seonghwa laughs lowly, eyes closed but pushed up into happy little crescents. 

“I need to know something,” he says. Yeosang looks at him as he pulls away, dark hair falling messily over his eyes, lips swollen. “And it’s really important.”

He hesitates for a moment, lips tugging into an unsure frown. “Okay…?”

Seonghwa’s arms snake their way around Yeosang’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer. There’s something about the confidence one gets from a first kiss that’s absolutely one of a kind, and he doesn’t miss the way Yeosang’s mouth falls open at the gesture.

He fakes a pout, whining in childish imitation. “Do you really think my mirror selfies are 'terrible'?”

Yeosang looks betrayed and smacks at his arm, expression a mixture of relief and annoyance. He whines a complaint about how that was an evil thing to do and Seonghwa laughs again, white teeth flashing. “I’m kidding,” he assures before he presses their lips together again, eyes sliding closed as he feels the blissful reciprocation. 

He isn’t quite sure what they are, or what’s going to happen when the other members come home, but the one thing he _does_ know is this: Kissing Yeosang, regardless of the labels attached to it, comes pretty close to perfection. Melodies of love songs in his ears, the taste of Yeosang’s lips on his tongue, his heart light for the first time like in every teenage love story ever. It's all brand new, unexplored, and something he wants to get to know better. The reality of Kang Yeosang, sassy yet sweet, smile incomparable, pressed up against him with his cute laugh and teasing affections is enough for him. It's more than enough.

He doesn't plan on giving it up any time soon, either.


End file.
